


from the many-venomed earth

by Anonymous



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brother/Brother Incest, Drabble Sequence, M/M, Moderate creepiness, Sibling Incest, They don't actually get to the sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The summer before college, Olmar takes up mithridatism.
Relationships: Thorgil/Olmar (Vinland Saga)
Kudos: 4
Collections: Anonymous





	from the many-venomed earth

**Author's Note:**

> Barely-legal bratty twink Olmar and consensually terrifying Niichan, that's all this is. They never get to the sex.

His brother, his and nobody else's, is kissing him back, his long hair falling over Olmar's face and neck. His shoulders are big and he smells like motorcycle oil.

"Olmar," his brother says, pulling back. "Oh, kid. You know how far I could drag us both down?"

"I'm not stupid," Olmar says. He spreads his legs defiantly. "Just fuck me already."

"Little thing like you." Thorgil's hand is already on his thigh, he's so close to getting what he wants. "I could break you so easy."

Olmar reaches down for his zipper. "Just look at me while you're doing it."

* * *

Not in the house, Thorgil says, zipping him back up, and he spends all week laughing at Olmar trying to hide the bulge that pops up when he thinks about what his brother promised for the weekend.

The motorcycle just makes things worse, and he thinks his brother knows it, because he keeps revving it even at stoplights, a weird monster growl that goes straight through Olmar's bones and leaves him nearly melted. It takes all his strength to keep hanging onto Thorgil's back without creaming himself. He's not going to embarrass himself like that now, though. Not a chance.

* * *

He can see the leers on the older guys leaning against the wall, and he starts to feel nervous. Almost. They look pretty tough, and he can't avoid walking past them. Then his brother's arm is around his waist, tight. "Mine," Thorgil says, nearly snarling. "Fuck off."

Olmar smirks at the guys as he and Thorgil pass them by. He could handle them on his own, sure, but nobody's gonna be stupid enough to start shit with his big brother there.

"Fucking chickenhawks," his brother says, loud enough for them to hear. "Oughta know when someone's beaten you to it."

* * *

"Don't get too close to anyone," Thorgil says, handing him a mug. "It's pretty easy to tell we're related."

"Really?" Olmar feels a stupid grin spreading across his face and takes a quick sip to hide it. Then he looks up, betrayed. "Root beer?!"

"You think I'm letting you drink underage? I'm your guardian tonight. You get root beer."

Olmar's about to protest when he feels a hand ghosting up the small of his back. One of the motorcycle gloves his brother likes wearing everywhere.

"Besides. I want you to remember _every_ little thing I'm gonna do to you later."

* * *

He has to wear his helmet at the motel check in. Thorgil says it'll be way too obvious they're brothers, standing next to each other, so he should just stand there looking legal but virginal. Embarrassed about being with a guy.

Olmar's nearly wetting himself with excitement, but he does his best to look shy. He does trip over himself a little when it's time to head for the room, and hopes his brother will assume it's part of the act.

"College boy," Thorgil says to the woman at the counter. "They get so nervous." Well, it's almost the truth.

* * *

"You see all those guys looking at you?" Thorgil asks, leading him by the arm to the bed. Olmar doesn't need leading at this point, but he likes the feeling. "It wasn't even a gay bar!"

"I just saw the two. Can we go now? Which way are we gonna start?"

"Jailbait's all about the same flavor when you get right down to it." Thorgil grins at him. "Us old folks are pretty gross, huh?" Sometimes Olmar thinks his brother does most of his talking just so he can do everything on his own schedule. When he's good and ready.

* * *

"You're always gonna be jailbait for me, Olmar. Is that what gets you hot about this? The danger?"

It is. Not the danger of either of them going to jail, though. Olmar's very aware that he's the one in danger here, because Thorgil can take care of himself like he always does. He wants to be in danger for once, and his brother is the safest kind of danger.

"Stop calling me that. You're hot and I wanna get fucked. It doesn't matter why."

"Oh, excuse me. The barely legal young master has spoken." Or maybe he just likes talking.

* * *

"Listen carefully," Thorgil says. "You've got a couple of choices here. If I let you keep your mouth to yourself, that means you have to promise me you're not gonna be screaming out my full legal name and our whole family tree. I also count about fifty things in this room I could stuff in there, my cock being probably the cleanest option. Not exactly a five star hotel I've checked us into. But I think I want you a little sleepy while you're learning how to do that. So. What kind of promises can you make me, little brother?"

* * *

"I can be quiet," Olmar says. "None of the servants ever caught me, did they?"

"You think they'd leave a note telling you?"

"I can be quiet," Olmar insists. He knows he can, he's not some dumb kid.

"Good boy. You get the pillow. I bet they wash those once a week, at least."

"But, I said—"

"You prove yourself first, Olmar. Maybe for round two I'll take off the training wheels. But they're mine to take off. You can't possibly think I'm the kind of big brother who cuddles in bed. You know why we're out here, don't you?"

* * *

"Because," Olmar says. "I could die here, and you could just leave, and when they find me you say you don't know anything and it must've been an accident. And they'll believe you, 'cuz we're rich and 'cuz Dad and Mom don't want trouble." He wants his brother to think about doing it, and to know that Olmar knows that he could, and to not do it.

Thorgil roars with laughter and claps him on the back. "You're a lot smarter than you look. But you don't really think I'm that awful, do you?"

"No." _Just that you could be._

* * *

"You ready?"

Olmar doesn't know what his brother's doing back there, but he's been ready for a week. "Yes," he says, trying not to sound impatient. "For anything."

"Oh, kid." It's a growl in his ear, like the growl of the motorcycle earlier in the evening. Scarier, like the feeling in your stomach when it thinks you're falling, even though your brain knows you're on a roller coaster. Olmar closes his eyes and waits to be eaten, safely, by this caged monster. "I really am gonna wind up in jail over you. I wonder what it's going to be for."


End file.
